


Reflections

by SoulJelly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulJelly/pseuds/SoulJelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh. I’ve never been kissed like that before.” Ginny/Luna, a collection of scenes from Hogwarts during DH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saraste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/gifts).



From the very first day back at Hogwarts, things have begun to change.

The missing students and staff are ever conspicuous in their absence, and Snape’s dry speech is the antithesis of Dumbledore’s warm charm, while the storm raging above the Great Hall seems tailor made for the event. The Gryffindors cluster at one end of the table, joined gradually by a small knot of newly Sorted first years who are even more timid than usual.

The strangeness creeps in alongside the winter chill; the nights grow longer and more and more students vanish, and there’s no Warming Spell powerful enough to stop the goosebumps that run down Ginny’s arms.

Talking in the corridors all but stops; each rare shout of laughter is its own small rebellion.

And it only gets worse.

“They’re… They’re practising the Cruciatus Curse on the students in detention.” Lavender storms into the Gryffindor Common Room, eyes blazing. Her hands, clenched in tight fists at her sides, tremble.

“What?” Ginny stands up so abruptly that her ink stand topples over. Watery blackness cascades onto the carpet, ignored as Ginny marches towards the door, Neville in tow.

“They can’t do that!”

But they can, and that’s the worst part of it.

It’s the first new punishment of many to come, high-pitched screams that echo along the castle’s stone walls, reverberating deep inside Ginny’s skull and pursuing her deep into fitful dreams - nightmares, really, filled with the faces of helpless students she cannot rescue. In the Great Hall the following day she sees Professpr McGongal, who looks equally tired with her face lined and lips pursed, and who shoots at look of such utter venom at Severus Snape that Ginny flinches to see it.

/

“We’ll split up, meet you back at the common room-”

“Right-”

Neville disappears from sight. Ginny’s breath bursts from her painfully, the cold a tearing ache in her lungs that twinges with each rapid footstep. She rounds another corner, feet skidding as her momentum propels her forward, and risksa glance back over her shoulder. Alecto Carrow is red-faced and wheezing and, thankfully, losing ground. But the Death Eater-turned-teacher pulls out her wand and Ginny braces herself for the pain-

She’s yanked suddenly to one side, a cool hand closing over her wrist and another - this one with the band of a slim ring on the index finger - pressing gently against her mouth.

“It’s okay,” Luna whispers, and Ginny nods, following without protest as she’s tugged with surprising force up a nearby narrow stairwell. They wait, enveloped in shadows and hardly daring to breathe as Carrow thunders past.

“Thanks, Luna.”

“That’s okay.” And then, “Come on, this way.”

They climb another staircase and reach a wooden doorway with an eagle etched into its surface. Ginny’s still regaining her breath, hands clutched to her chest, so she misses the riddle and Luna’s answer. As the door swings open, Luna gestures for her to follow her inside, where Ginny marvels at the Ravenclaw common room with its rows of bookshelves and rich blue furnishings.

“I was up late watching the moon,” Luna explains. “It’s particularly bright during the moon frog mating season. I know you shouldn’t really be here, but I couldn’t let her catch up with you.”

“Moon-? ...Oh, never mind. And, I won’t tell.”

It’s just another small rule being broken. The seclusion of the Houses won’t hold up for long, Ginny thinks; besides, there’s something to be said for secrets now, and trust - danger simmers beneath the surface of everything, vague and threatening like shadows, and there’s no way for Ginny to know how safe she truly is. It feels good, in the face of that, to trust to be trusted by another human being.

“Are you cold, Ginny?”

Luna’s studying her curiously and the question tears Ginny from her thoughts. She shakes her head.

“No, just thinking.”

“Are the Wrackspurts bothering you? Positive thoughts keep them away, you know.”

Ginny frowns, shrugs, watching as Luna brings a small pot of water to a boil with a muttered spell and drops teabags into two colourful mugs.

“My mum always used to say that a good cup of tea could help with anything.”

“My mum’s the same," Ginny replies, "She swears by tea, says it’s good for pretty much everything.”

They curl up on one of the small sofas, knees pressed together, and drink in companionable quiet. Luna scrutinises the moon and Ginny tries to see how it looks different in any way, but fails to manage it.

“Ginny?”

“Hmm?”

“Next time you’re planning something, you and Neville, I’d be happy to help.”

“The more the merrier.”

/

It’s not long after that when the divide between houses truly begin to break down, and it begins with Luna.

Luna drifts to the Gryffindor table one morning, a thoughtful expression on her face as she spreads marmalade across a slice of toast. Her hair is slightly mussed and her eyes cloudy with sleep, Ginny notes with a surge of fondness, as though she hasn’t quite stumbled out of her dreams yet.

“Good morning,” she says to Ginny and Neville, who swap raised eyebrows across the table. “It’s particularly subdued today, isn’t it?”

Ginny’s mouthful of cereal prevents her from answering right away, and Neville’s thoughts are slow after a sleepless night, so Luna is greeted for the moment with silence. She bites into her toast, tilting her head back to watch a few lethargic owls drift across the cloudy grey ceiling.

Ginny sets down her spoon. “Yeah. Even the ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ graffiti stuff can’t keep anyone’s spirits up. Great idea, though.” Despite her mood, she manages to grin; she’s amazed and pleased at Luna’s creative display of rebellion.

Later that morning, on the way to Muggle Studies, she spots bright orange-red blossoms spilling over every window ledge she passes. The sheer cheerfulness of the flowers is infectious and perhaps it’s Ginny’s imagination but the atmosphere does seem to lift a little. When she catches Luna’s eye across the grounds, Luna waves with a hand smudged yellow with pollen, and later that evening a small tawny owl presents a bouquet to Ginny at her dormitory window.

The petals are the exact colour of Ginny’s hair. Ginny knows, somehow, that Luna Lovegood isn’t the kind of person to do something like that by accident. The thought makes her blush profusely, and she falls asleep with her head turned to the vase that holds the flowers on her bedside table.

It’s a day that sparks changes, because the next day Luna joins them again at breakfast and because Ginny’s heart first skips a beat upon seeing her.

She misses Harry, Ron, Hermione, but she’s starting to think that Luna's company is what she really needs.

/

“Want me to stay with you?”

Neville is shrugging off his cloak even as he asks, but Ginny looks up at him and shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine. Go and get some fresh air. On one condition.”

Neville frowns. “What’s that?”

“That you bring me back something from Honeydukes.”

He smiles, wincing at the pain it causes him to do so and brushing one hand against the fresh bead of blood that wells at his split lip. In the library’s lamplight, Neville’s cuts and bruises look even worse, with the fresh ones layered over the old in odd patterns. He seems to disappear within himself for a moment, hand frozen in place. Then he blinks hard, rouses himself and nods to Ginny before disappearing through the door in pursuit of the other students visiting Hogsmeade. Ginny touches the fading scratch on her cheek and can’t help being thankful that she only got a Hogsmeade ban this time. She rests her chin on her hands, staring out of the window. The price of rebellion seems to be growing that much greater.

When Luna walks in, Ginny beckons her over enthusiastically, grateful for the distraction and the company, and gestures for her to sit down even though Ginny’s essay still only covers half an inch of parchment, no more than when she started out this morning.

“Didn’t fancy Hogsmeade this weekend, then?”

Luna shakes her head, gesturing to the stack of books in her arms, and Ginny is reminded of the Ravenclaw House’s trademark devotion to study.

“Is Neville all right?” asks Luna. “I haven’t seen him today.”

“He’s gone to Hogsmeade. He said he’ll bring something back for us.”

“That’s kind of him.”

Ginny marvels that they can sit in the library having casual conversation and writing Potions essays when panic is all around them. The air of fear hasn’t ever gone away with the passing weeks and worry churns inside her, fizzing beneath the surface of her skin like a pack of enchanted snap cards waiting to explode. She pushes her homework to the side and scours the _Daily Prophet_ , desperate for good news, even though she’s scanned it this morning and the only paper worth reading now is _The Quibbler_ anyway, though Luna assures her that her father hasn’t heard anything new about Harry.

She sighs, conceding defeat and throwing the paper to the other end of the desk. Ginny reaches into the pocket of her robes and nudges her knee against Luna’s, offering her an Every Flavour Bean beneath the desk. Luna takes one, delighted.

/

October drifts into November. When Ginny hasn’t seen Luna all day, she searches for her along the corridors beside the Ravenclaw common room. There’s a shallow, dusty alcove that Ginny comes across quite by chance and a cold wave of terror sweeps over her her at the sight of the blonde-haired figure huddled there on the floor.

Sinking to her knees and taking the other girl’s hands in her own, Ginny bends her head close and whispers Luna’s name. Her expression is glassy and vacant - not the face of someone lost in thoughts and daydreams, but that of someone shaken to the core of their being. Ginny thinks of Lavender Brown that day in the common room, how angry they all felt. The memory of that anger returns, red-hot and intensified. Just as she was back then, she’s shaking.

“Luna.” Ginny’s voices is low, urgent. “Luna what happened?”

“That boy, Goyle, he’s in Harry’s year, isn’t he? He’s not very good at curses, unfortunately for him.” Luna’s tone is mild but the words sound raw and she shakes a little as she speaks. “I expect it would have been much worse if he could perform the Cruciatus Curse properly.”

Ginny’s had her share of detentions. She closes her eyes as the memories wash over her - all-encompassing agony, every nerve-ending on fire and, afterwards, the body completely unmarked but so tender that every small touch and movement aches.

“Luna,” Ginny breathes, looping an arm around the other girl as gently as she can and helping her to her feet. “Luna, it’ll be okay. We’ll get you to the hospital wing.”

They make slow and halting progress. Luna’s face is pressed into Ginny’s shoulder and her words come out muffled.

“It’s like the magic’s been taken out of Hogwarts, isn’t it?”

Ginny shakes her head, adamant. “Not all of it. Not yet.”

“You’re very brave, Ginny.”

“So are you, Luna.”

Ginny believes this firmly and even more so when she sees, a few weeks later, Luna quietly comforting a tearful Ravenclaw. In a world that seems a whole other lifetime away, the girl had been among the group who coined the nicknamed ‘Loony Lovegood’ but there’s no hint of resentment on Luna’s face as she rubs the girl’s back in soothing circles.

And Ginny realises she’s never loved anyone like Luna before.

/

There’s a mirror in the girls’ bathroom on the fourth floor that never manages to get anyone’s reflection _quite_ right.

It’s the second one from the left in the row lining the walls below the sinks, and it’s just another of Hogwarts’ oddities, really - it bears none of the romantic intrigue that Erised had, and most of the female students queue for the other mirrors instead. Now, Ginny’s hands curl against the cold enamel as she stands at the second sink and gazes at her false reflection. It’s more flattering than the truth of her own pale face; the irregular lighting hides the worst of the darkness beneath her eyes, and the cut over her forehead that shows through her bangs. It casts her in a bluish hue, like enchanted fire, and the world over her shoulder is blurred fragments of cloudy glass.

She exhales, a long slow breath that causes her reflection to vanish in soft mist.

The door opens and quiet footsteps herald Luna’s arrival. Ginny doesn’t even need to look to know it’s her, but she does anyway, takes in the pale golden wave of Luna’s hair and the sweeping hem of her thick winter robes across the tiled floor. Her heart skips, an increasingly familiar flutter.

“Hello, Ginny. I thought I might find you here.”

“Hi Luna.”

“I’ve always found that mirror interesting,” says Luna. “It can be quite refreshing to have a different perspective sometimes, don’t you think?”

Perhaps it’s only that she’s spent so much time with Luna, but these days Ginny finds more and more that she's growing accustomed to Luna's strange philosophies, and sometimes that they even ring with quiet truths. She’s still not convinced about the Wrackspurts, or Luna’s theory on the Tutshill Tornadoes’ strategies last Quidditch season, but there’s something to be said for the unique perspective of Luna Lovegood - Ginny has come to rely on it to brighten her days, that and the rush of hope and affection that Luna’s presence brings.

Out there in the wizarding world, a war is happening. In the course of a handful of months, Ginny reflects, she has seen awful things, lived each day with the threat of overwhelming fear, heard _The Quibbler_ report deaths and disappearances. Everything she’s thought or felt may become lost forever at almost any moment, and it suddenly hits her with staggering force, that the idea of what she’s come to feel for Luna Lovegood disappearing into nothing is simply unbearable.

It’s a fairly nondescript afternoon, in this new, dark version of Hogwarts. Outside, snow is falling, and miniscule flakes have caught on Luna’s robes.

Ginny crosses the space between them and kisses her.

Harry is so very far away, and Luna is so warm, so honest and brave and so real, her gasp of surprise captured by Ginny’s mouth, the fingers running through Ginny’s hair as delicate as butterflies. This is more intense than anything she’s ever felt, and her hands wind in the slippery fabric of Luna’s robes, pulling her in tighter, pressing them closely together until the need for air wins out and Ginny releases her once more, slowly.

Luna’s eyes are wide. She raises one hand and presses her fingers lightly to her lips, tracing the memory of Ginny’s mouth on hers.

“Oh,” she says, softly, “I’ve never been kissed like that before. Well, I’ve never been kissed at all, really.”

“Uh-” says Ginny, aware of the embarrassed heat searing her face. She’s completely and utterly alive, the ever-present panic ebbing and being replaced by sudden pleasant fireworks in her gut. Her heart pounds, but she can’t help herself and her lips shape a full, genuine smile for the first time in ages at this little bubble of realised happiness and requited affection flooding her bleak world. “Sorry.”

“Please don’t be,” Luna says earnestly. “Unless that was a mistake. But I do hope it wasn’t. I’ve always thought you were lovely, Ginny.”

Ginny catches sight of them out of the corner of her eye, in that one strange mirror above the second sink. The bathroom is cold in reality, yet the reflection in the mirror floods the room with sunshine, thin slanting beams from the high windows that illuminate her with a soft glow and turn the world golden. For once, it’s captured her image perfectly.

Luna nods, though Ginny can't tell whether she's read her mind or simply come to her own quiet conclusion about something else. Either way, she agrees wholeheartedly with Luna's next words.

“There is still magic in Hogwarts, after all.”

Her hands have come to rest on Ginny’s shoulders and she pulls them both together again.

Quite matter-of-factly, Luna adds, “We will be alright, I think.”

And though the war isn’t without its casualties, they find that eventually they are.


End file.
